There are tons of ideas floating around in this wee little space I refer to as brain. Millions of ideas. They are stashed on my Iphone, written down in notebooks, and are locked in folders on my desk top. It is a rats nest of creativity waiting to explode!
Blog ideas for the any person to DIY till the cows come home. Stories about life with four little minions that are screaming to be shared. Life, life waiting to be shared so someone, somewhere who reads might know that they are not alone. Keys to being a cheerleader-- to fighting a good fight are written down and locked away like a dark secret.
There are sewing patterns scribbled in insane colored inks waiting to be discovered are tucked tight in a plastic cabinet. Fabric awaits to be cut, sewn, revealed. Awesome vintage frames lay astray in a dingy basement waiting for a new life to be remembered in them. The paint at least keeps each other company waiting for brushes to bring them to life.
The only thing blocking all these wonderful goodies from unleashing on the world? The person who creates them. In this case, that might be me! Yup - me, myself, and I. Or more so -- my own succumbing to stage fright.
I paralyze myself. If I'm going to do anything in life - it must be perfect.
Sewing something for the first time, without a pattern, has to be flawless the first go around. And because I can count that that won't happen the first time - I don't turn on the machine.
Blogging has to be pretty. The pictures have to be perfect. The story has to be happy. The DIY project has to go exactly as planned. But because this is never a guarantee I don't sit to write.
So who do I cheat by not even showing up to the performance? Well, basically myself. I am loosing out on an awesome experience to share. So while it won't be perfect, it will be from my heart. A heart that is dying to share. Sharing is a part of me that no matter how hard I try to quiet - it just won't
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